


Assumptions are bad for your health

by Dwarfanonymice



Series: Kingsman's vignettes [5]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Roxy and the recruits are mentioned, who is Arthur?, who is Guinevere?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 01:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12972261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dwarfanonymice/pseuds/Dwarfanonymice
Summary: It seems that Arthur and Guinevere are not what they appear to be. Some discoveries are made (not by the recruits. For now they are a clueless bunch). As always, it's all tongue in cheek and it's not to be taken seriously.





	Assumptions are bad for your health

It was the 10th of December. Christmas couldn’t come soon enough, in Rupert’s opinion. He was sick and tired of this Kingsman idiocy. He was here only because his granny wanted it. That woman had an exceptional will and crossing her was like walking into a steel door. It was not worth the pain in the aftermath. The only positive thing about this was Arthur: the man was bonkers, he missed an eye, but he was great. He treated all of them as they were his children, he spoiled them, but soon (today in fact) he will have to choose and three of them will go home. He really hoped he wasn’t the one: he didn’t want to face Nana.

Lancelot’s voice interrupted his reverie: “Bloody hell, what’s with the long face? Your time is slipping, Rupert”. 

“Sorry, Ma’am, it won’t happen again” he answered and he picked up the pace in the obstacle course.

“You’re not very clever to do that in this course, Rupert. Arthur himself had difficulties in concluding it with success. Only Guinevere did it with hardly breaking a sweat.”

Guinevere, always bloody Guinevere. The legend. The most perfect Kingsman in existence. Nobody knew who she or he was and speculation run wild in the bored candidates’ quarters.

He was so busy in his ruminations that he almost didn’t notice that Emily and John were almost at his heels. Luckily they were distracted by two little menaces which stomped in the field while chewing with relish on a toy that looked strangely like Merlin’s tablet. They sincerely hoped it wasn’t.

A voice rang in the field: “Hamish, JB, heel.” The two furry menaces stopped and Harry was seen approaching them. “You can’t play with this toy outside. You know it. Who let you out?”

“It was me. Sorry” said a little voice. “Daisy!” exclaimed Harry. “What are you doing out here? Where are…” She interrupted him: “Sorry. They were boring. Looking at papers and stuff. Can I stay with you or play with them? That course sounds like fun.”

Harry sighed: “You sound like your brother. Come on, we’re getting inside and you’re helping me with JB and Hamish.” 

She pouted: “Ok, but I’m choosing their dresses, the tea set and which one of these grown ups stay here.”

Harry whistled calling for the dogs who were romping around with Emily, John and Rupert and laughed: “Oh, I don’t think so. Morgana and Merlin already know what to do with them.”

“But, isn’t Guinevere’s final decision? After all, they are his candidates” was the smart reply.

“We’ll see” was the cryptic answer.

In the meantime, in Arthur’s office, Eggsy, Morgana and Merlin were busy reviewing one last time the final paperwork.  
“I hope Harry won’t be too disappointed by my decision” said Eggsy.

“Believe me. He already knows it” interjected Merlin “Harry was here earlier and he has looked through your files: the room smells like him.”

“The fuck, mate?” asked Eggsy. “Yes,” confirmed Morgana, “it smells like Santa Maria Novella Patchouli.” And Merlin continued: “It combines history and Italy, what’s not to love? Don’t look at me like that. He said that.” 

“You know him really well, don’t you?” asked a suspiciously irritated Eggsy.

“Leave me alone. Bother Morgana. She actually likes you” replied Merlin.

“Yeah, but you looove me” crooned Eggsy and, at Morgana’s exasperated sigh, he continued: “I thought he used Grey Vetiver.”

“No,”interrupted Morgana “that’s the actor, not him. Please, for the love of God, don’t mention him to Harry. He won’t be kind.” 

“What?” laughed Eggsy “Scared of being hearttrob material?” 

“No,” Merlin affirmed “more likely he will be so pissed off he will start reciting Darcy’s proposal in Pride and Prejudice in a Scottish accent.”

Morgana cleared her throat concluding the useless discussion and asked: “So, Arthur, is that your final decision?”

“Yes, Rupert, Emily and John are the final three. We will offer Francine a position in the flight department, Jamal will be one of your minions, Merlin, and Bernie will be one of your doctors, Morgana” was the answer.

“Good,” said Merlin. “Now I want to know why you and Harry insisted on swapping your codenames for this selection process.”

“Because it was fun” said Eggsy, unrepentant.

“You only live to confuse others” grumbled Merlin.

“Maybe. But now I want to see that footage you promised me, since the candidates haven’t still found out who Guinevere really is. Sometimes I really despair for them. If Harry didn’t like them so much…” pouted Eggsy.

“What footage?” asked Merlin. Morgana snickered: “You know which… and I’ll show him.”

“No, thank you. It is from ten years ago, I still have hair in that and I don’t want to reminisce” he protested while Morgana put the file on the mirror and made it start.

In it, Merlin was trying to dissuade Harry from being a “reckless peacock at his grand age” making him even more determined. 

“Look” he tried to reason “I know Arthur gets under your skin, but we should appreciate this time with him. He’s 75 years old”. (“You said that on purpose” accused Eggsy and Merlin smirked).

Footage!Harry, wearing a bespoke track suit like it was his second skin, predictably answered : “That’s only 14 in demon years” and procedeed to tackle and conclude an obstacle course (which had made even Eggsy swear a blue streak) with great flair and a nonchalant air, making the old Arthur (killing him remained a fond memory) choke literally on his tongue.

Eggsy whistled his approval at the end while his Guinevere appeared behind his chair and kissed him on the neck. The new Arthur greeted him with a: “Who are you? Fucking Legolas?” that made Morgana chortle and Merlin sigh in exasperation.  
Making them all jump, a young voice piped up from one of the chairs: “Mind your fucking manners, Eggsy. There is a lady present. That would be me” and sent them all in hysterics.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea struck me today. Don't get used to it.  
> English continues to elude me as my first language, again. Still not Beta-read.  
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
